


Capable Hands

by mcfuck



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pastfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfuck/pseuds/mcfuck
Summary: A long time ago, the king and his prophet were close.





	Capable Hands

**Author's Note:**

> for @atalzul on tumblr, who made this cute ass art for it that i love with my whole fucking heart https://atalzul.tumblr.com/post/179024257874/the-amazing-transvoljin-wrote-me-a-fucking
> 
> 6/9/19: edited

His hair feels like silk as it slips between his fingers.

Rastakhan lets out a deep sigh as the prophet starts to massage the soap into his scalp, a sound of such profound relief that one might think the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. “It has been a long time since anyone has done this for me.”

Zul grunts. “Who be your best friend?”

With a laugh, Rastakhan leans his head back into Zul’s capable hands. “You be my best friend.”

“And don’t you forget it, you spoiled brat,” Zul grouches, scrubbing thoroughly behind Rastakhan’s long ears with his fingertips.

He digs his thumbs into the back of the larger troll’s neck where the muscles are tight, pressing mercilessly into tense flesh until, with a pained groan, the king’s body starts to yield, more pliant and relaxed with every passing moment.

Zul traces an old scar on the back of Rastakhan’s neck with a fingertip. Rastakhan tilts his head forward, willingly baring his neck to the other troll, and Zul’s hands freeze for just a moment, then resume their task of rubbing the base of the king’s skull, lathering the soap in his hair.

He doesn't like to think about why Rastakhan is so quick to trust him. The king shows Zul his weak points like it's the most natural thing in the world, as if he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Zul will not hurt him while he's vulnerable.

Wash and rinse, wash and rinse, over and over again until Rastakhan’s shoulder-length hair is clean and soft and shining. The huge troll leans his head back against Zul’s bony leg, and starts to  _ purr _ .

Though he really, really wants to, Zul ignores his urge to kick Rastakhan into the bath. He’s not entirely sure if the big idiot even knows he’s doing it.

With no small amount of hesitation, Zul’s hands find their way to his king’s shoulders and rub idly, continuing to care for him even though his task is done. For a few minutes, all is quiet. Peaceful. Zul feels… calm.

Then Rastakhan rolls his shoulders back with a gusty sigh, and Zul yanks his hands away. “Thank you,” he says, his voice softer than Zul has ever heard it. He sounds sleepy. Content.

Slowly, Rastakhan stands, planting a foot on the seat in his bath to push himself up and out of the water. Zul very pointedly looks at the ceiling. “Do you mind?”

“I have nothing to hide,” he replies, reaching for a towel to dry his hair instead of wrap around his waist.

“Just put that thing away, Rastakhan.”

**Author's Note:**

> two bros chillin in a hot tub


End file.
